A letter, a map and a longlost father
by enomix
Summary: Penelope Jones didn't know she was a witch until her mother told her anything one evening. But there is still one thing she doesn't know: who is her father? Penelope will have to face Hogwarts and help Harry understand his past- and maybe her own. PoA .
1. An inexplicable event

**Hey! This is my FIRST ever fanfiction, so please don't be too harsh on me. The chapters are kind of short, but I have no idea how long to make them- so this will have to do. Please send me any feedback, I am looking forward to any response I get on this. And tell me if I should continue it... please? To you it's just one click and to me it's like heaven's broken loose. LOL. ENJOY! :)**

CHAPTER 1: An inexplicable event

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Penelope sighed. It would be no good to try to run from them now. As always, a group of evil-looking cloak-wearing men were chasing her. She didn't know who they were, or why they tailed her, but it was a mystery she was determined to solve.

Breathless, she turned round the corner of the street and ran into a dark alley. She soon wished she hadn't.

It was a shabby, poor place. Torn posters clung to the walls, which were lined with dirt. It was hardly in the best part of London. And facing her was the most ferocious black dog she had ever seen.

Struck with terror, Penelope stopped in midstep to contemplate the circumstances. A group of mysterious men? Or a big, black dog? She couldn't decide which was worse. Suddenly, she heard a sinister squeaking sound, and lifted her head to see a chipped wooden sign dangling above her head reading: _The Leaky Cauldron_.

_Not one nor the other_, she thought, and barged into the place.

One could not say who was more astonished.

Penelope was stunned as the crowd in what seemed to be a bar hushed and stared at her. They were all dressed in dark robes that brushed the ground as they sat.

The customers, in turn, were also shocked by Penelope's sudden appearance. Her punk style chestnut hair, _Sex Pistols _T-shirt and neon painted fingernails clashed dramatically with the old-fashioned aura of the bar.

It was the bartender who broke the silence.

"Who are you?"

"I'm P-Penelope J-Jones."

The bartender stared at her. Then, a woman who had stopped drinking what seemed to be beer and still held her mug high in her hand finally collected enough courage to speak up.

"But...how did you get here? I mean, you're a muggle aren't you?"

Penelope stared. "No-ye-er-a what?"

An old man gave the woman a warning look. The latter hesitated for a bit before adding, "You...you're not a witch are you? I mean, you come from a non-magical family?"

The young girl felt offended. A complete stranger, calling her a witch? Had they no respect for her?

"Excuse me, I must leave now. And I'll tell you that I'm no witch, magical or evil or whatever you mean by it. I only came in here because some men in cloaks were following me."

Tension filled the air. Some of the clients started whispering hurriedly. Others glanced worriedly at Penelope, murmuring things under their breath every now and then. But eventually, one spoke as the girl was about to leave through the old termite-eaten door.

"Look here, Poppy or Petra or-"

"Penelope."

"That. Well, your mother wouldn't happen to me Libby Jones, would she?"

Penelope stopped and withdrew her hand from the doorknob. Who was this stranger to know her mother's name? A man of forty-odd years whose shabby blond hair fell over his eyes.

Penelope hesitated before responding the affirmative.

The blond man nodded at the bartender, who instantly relaxed, and the bar returned to its normal atmosphere again. The blond man the turned to Penelope, and told her, "Come with me, I'll take you home. You'll be safe. The men won't harm you with me, don't worry."

The girl didn't want to go with the man, who the hell was he anyway? But he had known Penelope's mother's name without her ever mentioning it and- no, it was a risk she couldn't take. What if he was allied with the creepy men? But that just didn't seem to be possible. So the girl reluctantly agreed.

They disappeared onto the streets and into the dark evening.

* * *

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK- Oh. It's you."

The blond man smiled.

"It's been a while Libby. We need to talk."

**

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**Did you like it Should I continue it? Review? (: Please do!**


	2. Answers provoke questions

**Hey! Did you like chapter 1? Here's the new installment! I have 5 chapters already, I just found this website some time ago, so I'm gonna update all I have today... Then I will probably update every week or maybe even twice a week *gets excited*. Once I start 9th grade in September though... I'll have to let you guys know how its gonna go. Anyway- here's chapter two. ENJOY and Review? 3**

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CHAPTER 2: Answers provoke Questions

The sound of raised voices interrupted Penelope in her sleep. She pulled on her robe over her pajamas and checked the clock. 5:30. She still had an hour and a half before leaving the house at 7. School was a cruel hour away for her, and started at 8.

She walked into the kitchen. Her mother and the blond man were having a fiery discussion.

"I want the best for my daughter, I was supposed to keep her _safe_-"

"Oh, Libby, stop fooling yourself and shut up about that stupid argument. _They've found her for Merlin's sake_!"

Suddenly the two grew aware of the girl's presence.

"Morning, love," said Libby, kissing Penelope's forehead. The blond man gave her a warm smile. He was still here.

Had he spent the night?_ Not one of mum's absurd boyfriends_, Penelope prayed silently.

But he was not.

"This is Roland Abbott, honey," introduced Libby, "he's an old friend of mine. We met at a... a boarding school I went to when I was young. He's an old friend. He-he's told me about yesterday."

Penelope lowered her gaze and grabbed a piece of toast. Libby gave a questioning look to Roland, who encouraged her on.

"You see, I got a letter when I was a year younger than you- 11, that is. It was from... well, a school called Hogwarts. It was a very exceptional school. But to understand the rest of the story, you need to know the key point.

"I was a witch."

Penelope choked on her toast and began to cough like crazy until her throat finally cleared and she was able to breathe properly again.

"A witch? I... I'm missing something here, aren't I?"

She stared quizzingly at her mother, who laughed. Roland continued telling the story.

"What your mother means is that she can do magic. And so can I. And so can you."

Penelope almost fell off her chair.

"Really, Mr. Abbott, April Fool's was two months ago. And I don't recall July 31st to be a special day. So pull off the joke."

Libby, who had just started to laugh even more hysterically than before, took a breath before replying, "Honey, he's telling the truth. Show her, Roland."

The room's lights started switching on and off, and suddenly Penelope's ankle pulled her up until she floated in the air, upside down, shrieking.

"STOP IT! IT'S NOT FUNNY!"

Roland simply sighed, still chuckling, pulled out a thin stick at which Penelope looked wide-eyed at, muttered what sounded like _"Liberacorpus_" until she crashed with the furry rug.

"Okay, okay, I believe you. But are you serious? I'm a witch? Who were those people? Why didn't I get a letter? Why didn't you tell me? Where's the school-"

"STOP!" interrupted Libby, "You have to prepare for school now. I'll answer your questions later. No, Penelope, later."

The girl sulked as she drank some milk, but knew the battle was won. Now she'd have to wait for a whole schoolday before her mother unveiled the truth. 24 hours of agony.

It was going to be a long day.

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**Did you enjoy that? Please review, and sorry for the persistent cliffhangers... xD Should I continue?**


	3. Missing

**here's chapter 3! **

**Thanks to everyone that's added me to their lists! :) It really makes it seem worthwhile to continue. I would also appreciate reviews *hint, hint* even if it's to tell me how it sucks. Hey- something is better than nothing!**

**Anyways, love you guys for reading it. :)**

**ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer: (forgot to put it in the other chapters) Just so ya know, I do not own Harry Potter, Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, or any of the HP universe. I am NOT JK Rowling. however, Penelope, Libby and Roland are MINE. Glad we cleared that up.**

**On with the story. (:**

**Chapter 3: Missing**

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Penelope observed the other passengers waiting for the Tube. A cluster of businessmen were drinking their Starbucks and there was a couple with their suitcases- presumably going to Heathrow. It wasn't a very busy morning at the Totteridge and Whetstone station.

Penelope took the Northern line, along with all the other passengers and sat down on the first free seat she saw. She took out her Agatha Christie and started reading.

Woodside Park, West Finchley, Finchley Central, East Finchley, Highgate, Archway...

Leicester Square.

Penelope jumped up and stuffed her novel into her rucksack, and sprinted onto the platform. She then followed the blue _Piccadilly -_signs until she reached the appropriate platform.

_3 minutes until the next train_, read the digital overhead sign.

Penelope sighed and lowered her gaze, taking in her surroundings. There was the couple again, they'd need the _Piccadilly _for Heathrow, that's right. A couple of early workers, some students who, like her, were going to school, nothing out of the ordinary. Then Penelope turned her head to study her left side.

Oh, no.

Not _them_.

A rush of blood swarmed to her head, and she felt like the air was sucked from her lungs.

The cloaked men again. Seriously, what had she done to upset them? Was it because she was a witch? Her mother had said something about keeping her safe. And Roland had replied that they'd found her...who had?

The girl quickly turned away and tried to act normal, but couldn't help feeling nervous although the station was quite populated.

When the Tube arrived, she got in and tried to sit next to the Heathrow couple again.

But the men didn't enter.

Penelope didn't look back.

"I'm home!" cired Penelope, as she flung her schoolbag onto the sofa and pulled off her shoes.

No one replied.

"Mum? Mr. Abbott?"

She walked into the kitchen, preoccupied. Libby never left like this, without notice. That was when she saw the note, written in a familiar calligraphic cursive.

**Honey, I had to go with Roland. There's been a slight problem… I don't know when I'll be back. I'm sorry that I have no time to explain. I've packed your suitcase and a snack. Go to the place I have indicated on the other sheet of paper underneath this one. I also packed some books about the magical world for you. Love you darling, Libby. **

**P.S. Your letter from Hogwarts is also enclosed. I have already contacted them to tell them that you will be going. Good luck, my love. Make me proud.**

Penelope grabbed the enclosed envelope and piece of paper, went into her bedroom and collected the small suitcase as well as the rucksack that had been packed for her. She then went up to her mother's room and took around 200 pounds from Libby's safe. Who knew how much she'd need. Then she noticed a small envelope, without an address. Curiously, she opened it, her mischievous side taking dominance, as usual.

_16__th__ of November, 1981_

_Dearest Libby,_

_We haven't heard from you in so long! I was starting to get worried. After our last year at Hogwarts, well, a lot of things have changed. I'm not sure if you know this, but James and Lily have been killed by You-Know-Who. Their son, Harry, survived though. Last time we talked, you were pregnant. Have you had the baby yet, Lib? Does it take after its lonely father?_

_Padfoot has been arrested for the murder of 13 muggles and Peter Pettigrew. I just can't believe it! I mean, he and James drove Snape crazy, but I never thought he'd be able to kill… well, only for the ones he really loved I guess. I'm sure these news are –well, hell for you. I know what your relationship with him was like, and you know how close I was to him too. And you know? Despite of it all, I do miss him. I could use a good laugh right now._

_Anyhow, I am in hiding, as you are too. I know that the war's over, but society still holds a grudge against werewolves. However, your owl will probably find me. I truly do miss you, Libby._

_Love always,_

_Moony Lupin._

_P.S. Could you send me a picture of the baby?_

Once she had read the letter thoroughly six times, she put it into her rucksack, wondering who Moony Lupin could be. Obviously, Moony was a nickname… but for whom?

She left the house, locking the door behind her and directed herself to the Underground Station.

Only once she was on the Tube did she take out her Tube Map to check the stations as well as study the piece of paper she held in her hand. It read:

**Go to:**

**The Leaky Cauldron**

**Charing Cross Road**

**London**

**Ask for Nymphadora Tonks. She'll help you.**


	4. At the Leaky Cauldron Again

**It's been so long! I am terribly sorry for the wait. :( **

**Thanks to everyone whose been reading and reviewing, I promise that A Review A Day Keeps The Doctor Away. :P**

**Anyway- to make it up to you I have a double update coming! :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: As always, HP world belongs to JKR. Penelope, however, is MINE. :)

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It had started to rain outside the Charing Cross station. Many passers-by were running for cover, while the rest opened umbrellas or simply continued their walk unaffected by the precipitation.

There was a clash of thunder, and Penelope pulled her hood over her head to keep dry, but it was no use. The storm was to great.

She glanced at the address on the paper again, and looked around to locate herself. _Charing Cross Road_. She was in the right place. But where was the Leaky Cauldron?

Studying her surroundings, she realized that she was where she had been yesterday. Penelope turned round a familiar corner and reached the dark alley yet again.

She smiled as the chipped sign made a creaking sound, and suddenly jerked her head around as she recalled the black animal that had startled her. But there was no dog in sight.

An elderly lady stepped out of the Cauldron's door, and stopped abruptly when she saw Penelope, panicking.

"Are you…you know…mage-er-a wiz-no-er-ah-"

"I'm a witch, if that's what you mean."

The old lady smiled. "Yes. Well then, I'll be off."

"WAIT!" called Penelope after her. "Do you know a Nymphadora Tonks?"

The old woman turned around, studying Penelope curiously. She doubted a bit, before adding, "Well, well, aren't you full of surprises? I suppose you're a metamorphgus too? I'll get her for you."

And before the young girl could reply, the lady whisked open the door to the pub and called inside, "DORA! There's a young witch out here asking for you!"

She turned to Penelope again.

"Well, she'll take care of you. She's training to be an Auror, you know," she added in a matter-of-fact tone. And with one swift movement of her cloak, she disappeared.

Penelope sighed, not having the faintest idea what an Auror or a metamorphgus was, and wondering how this elderly lady had just vanished into thin air.

A woman of around 20 years interrupted her thoughts though, coming out of the Cauldron. She had bright red curls, a pale heart-shaped face and dark twinkling eyes. She looked like something out of a fairytale despite the fact that she dressed plainly.

"Hello, you're Penelope, aren't' you? Let's get out of the rain," she suggested, leading the girl inside.

The Cauldron was just like it had been the day before. Tom, the barman, was preparing a drink, customers were consuming their orders and a few were asking for rooms.

"A butterbeer and firewhisky, please," ordered Nymphadora Tonks, laying down Penelope's suitcase, which she had kindly offered to carry, next to a free table.

The two sat down and it was the Auror-to-be who started the conversation.

"So. You're the young Jones are you?" she commented, grinning, "I'm Nymphadora Tonks. Most people call me Dora, but really, calling me Tonks is enough."

Penelope laughed.

"Okay. Tonks. The old lady told me that you're training to be an Auror. What is that?" she asked, as Tom brought their drinks.

Tonks smiled and thanked the barman before replying.

"I forget you don't know about the wizarding community. I guess I'll have to tell you my life story then –although, mind you, it's a very boring one. My mother is Andromeda Tonks, hence the fancy names, but she was born a Black. She married my muggle, that is, non-magical, father, Ted Tonks. I graduated from Hogwarts three years ago and now pursue the Auror career, which my teachers thought I was too much of a joke for. An Auror is someone who basically hunts down Dark wizards and puts them in Azkaban, the wizard prison.

"So like the muggle police?"

Tonks exploded into a fit of laughter. "Far more complicated matters than they ever have to face, I assure you."

Penelope nodded, understanding more and more with each queston. However, there was one tiny thing still nagging at her mind, and so she asked away.

"What is a metamorphgus, Tonks?"

"A metamorphgus is someone who can change their physical appearance at will," she replied, and suddenly her hair turned electric blue.

Penelope grinned and drank a sip of butterbeer. She hadn't made such a good friend in months.


	5. Breakfast

**Here it is, just like I promised!

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**

After the nice get-to-know chat with Tonks, Penelope felt like there was nothing more to know about the wizarding world. She knew about apparation, Voldemort, Harry Potter, Berty Bott's Every-Flavoured Beans, Chocolate Frog Cards, Professor Snape, the Shrieking Shack, Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban…

Once she had finished her butterbeer, a wizard drink Penelope had taken a fancy to, and Tonks finished drinking her second Firewhisky, Tom had escorted the two to the room where Penelope would be staying.

"It's got a nice view of the muggle market," praised Tom.

Tonks laughed, and helped him carry the suitcase inside the room. Then she turned to the young girl.

"Well, Penelope, I've got to go home now. Tomorrow I'll come back and show you some of Diagon Alley, and we can buy your schoolbooks," she added.

Penelope shook her head. "Don't worry, I'll just ask Tom to show me the how to get there, and then I can do a bit of exploring. You don't have to bother with escorting me."

Tonks frowned. "If your sure…" Penelope nodded vigorously.

"All right then," the woman replied with a laugh, "I won't come tomorrow. If you want to reach me, just ask Tom to borrow an owl. Have a great time at Hogwarts!"

And she left, leaving Penelope alone in the peculiar room.

It was cold in the room, despite of the fire crackling in the fireplace. Penelope supposed that they had just probably just turned it on. There was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, and a wardrobe.

"Well, this is home now," sighed Penelope, and after unpacking her night things from her suitcase, made her way to the bathroom to change into her pajamas.

* * *

The next day, she ate breakfast in the Leaky Cauldron, where she watched the other guests, old witcheschatting about how batty Bathilda Bagshot was getting, serious-looking wizards arguing about the latest article in _The Daily Prophet_, and younger couples or friends having cheerfully vivid discussions about Quidditch.

Only one customer caught her eye. He had black hair, green eyes, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

Harry Potter.

He was eating a piece of toast with some hot chocolate, curiously, the same thing Penelope had ordered. Harry was also looking around at the other customers, studying them with a smile on his face.

Penelope suddenly remembered the letters from Hogwarts that she hadn't yet read, and took them out. They stated:

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**

**_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlcok,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards_)

_Dear Miss Jones,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._  
_Yours sincerely,_

**_Minerva McGonagall_**  
_Deputy Headmistress_

And behind it came:

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**

**_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

_Third-year students will require:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 3) by Miranda Goshawk  
Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky  
Intermediate Transfiguratoin by Emeric Switch  
The Monster Book of Monsters_

_NOTE: Dear Miss Jones, since you are a new pupil at this school but have joined in the third year, as is very rare, you must also buy the following uniform and equipment:_

**_uniform_**  
_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_  
_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_  
_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_  
_4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_  
_Please note that all pupils' cloes should carry name tags._

**_other equipment_**  
_1 wand_  
_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_  
_1 set glass or cystal phials_  
_1 telescope_  
_1 set brass scales_  
_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad._  
_Students may also bring a broomstick._

_I'm supposed to find all this-in London? Well, Diagon Alley here I come,_ she thought to herself.

She gulped down the last of her chocolate, and made her way to the bar to pay for her breakfast and ask for directions to Diagon Alley.

"I'm sorry miss, we don't accept no muggle money."

_No muggle money? They have their own CURRENCY? How the hell am I going to pay for my room?_

"Don't worry Tom. I'll pay hers too."

Penelope turned round and saw the green-eyed boy again.

"Hi. I'm Penelope. Thanks ever so much for that, because I've only got pounds. Is there a wizard bank or something where I can change it to whatever magical currency exists?"

Harry grinned.

"I'm Harry. Yeah, Gringotts, it's in Diagon Alley. I can show you the way, if you want. I mean, I have to get some stuff there too."

The girl nodded enthusiastically and after paying for both of their meals, Harry led her to a small, walled courtyard, were there was nothing but trash and dead plants. Then, he tapped the bricks on the wall in an order Penelope couldn't grasp and suddenly the wall wiggled and a hole appeared in the wall, revealing an archway onto a street that twisted and turned until disappearing out of their sight.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley."


	6. Galleons, Sickles and Knuts

**Here's Chapter 7, thanks to everyone that reviewed. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry. But I do own Penelope. :)**

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Penelope's eyes widened at all of the stores, the things outside them, the people buying things and walking round and round with their long cloaks. The children staring at –it couldn't be- a broomstick. She could hear them muttering, "It's the fastest broom in the world." "It's a favourite for the Quidditch Cup." Harry stopped outside the window, his eyes swollen in admiration at the mere sight of it. Penelope too, appreciated the beauty of the broom, and they both just stared at it for a few minutes. They suddenly realized what they were doing, and broke their gazes to continue down the alley towards a big white building in the middle of the street.

"So- you're muggle born? New to London?" asked Harry.

"Erm –no. Actually, my mother was a witch, and I have no idea who my father was, so I'm at least a half-blood (although I think he might've been a wizard my mother met at school). I didn't know about the wizarding world until –well, before yesterday, to tell you the truth. I'm going to a school called Hogwarts… ever heard of it?"

"Ever heard of it? I go there, too. Although we never get new students unless they're first years… everyone will be surprised at your appearance. I wonder if they'll sort you with them…"

Penelope stared at him. Harry chuckled.

"Right. You have no clue what I'm talking about. Well, when the first years arrive (all of them are new, of course), they have to be sorted into their houses by a sorting hat. It's placed on your head and it sorts you into one of the four houses: Gryffindor, home of to the brave; Slytherin, the evil lot; Ravenclaw, the really smart kids; and Hufflepuff, well, they're supposed to be really caring but I think that it's also because they just don't fit in the rest."

"And you are in Gryffindor, I presume?" inquired the girl.

"Yes. Where do you want to be in?"

"Well… I don't know. Gryffindor would be nice, but if not Ravenclaw doesn't sound too bad either. And I'd rather be in Hufflepuff than Slytherin… I am NOT evil."

Harry laughed, and stopped in front of a snowy white building with burnished bronze doors. And standing next to the door was –nah, it couldn't really be a _goblin_?

They entered through, and Penelope saw some more goblins with scales and pieces of gold, others showing visitors in and out of doors that seemed to go on forever. They were in a hallway of counters, with countless goblins behind them, waiting for customers.

Harry led her to a free goblin and asked, "We would like to change some muggle money into wizard currency, please."

"The goblin looked down at them from the high counter, slightly frightening Penelope as he did so, and asked, "How much?"

The green-eyed boy looked puzzlingly at Penelope, who took out her wallet and looked through, putting the items on the counter as she did so.

"198 pounds and 40 pence," the girl informed the goblin.

The latter simply waved an incantation over the money and it instantly turned into coins of gold, and stated: "39 galleons, 14 sickles and 7 knuts."

Harry sighed, and his companion looked at him, puzzled.

"It won't be enough for your things. Ask if your mother had a vault. What's her name?"

"Libby Jones."

"Excuse me, sir," Harry addressed the free goblin again, who looked down at them for the second time.

"Yes?"

"We would also like to consult if there is any vault in the name of Ms. Libby Jones.'

"Who asks?"

"Her daughter," replied Penelope.

"Do you have a key?"

Penelope slowly shook her head, and heard Harry sigh. Trust wizards to have keys to vaults. For goodness sake, they could've used a finger print method or DNA test or something! Her mother must have seen this coming… hadn't she? A key, a key, a key…

"A key!" cried Harry.

Penelope looked at him blankly.

"You have a key on your necklace," he explained. The girl realized it with a jolt. Her mother had given it to her when she was eleven, and told her that it opened her deepest secrets.

Penelope unlocked the clasp at the back of her neck and handed the necklace to the goblin, who was studying it closely.

"Hornpick!" called the goblin suddenly, and handed the necklace back to the girl.

An extremely thin goblin with a pointy nose and extremely sharp fingernails emerged out of nowhere. He gestured for Penelope and Harry to follow him, and opened one of the doors leading out of the hall.

Penelope expected more marble, but she was surprised with the narrow passageway made of stone. It went downward and had railing tracks along the floor. Hornpick whistled and a cart appeared out of the blue. Harry got on, it looked like he was used to it by now, and Penelope followed him, uneasy.

Suddenly, they sped through a labyrinth of twisting and turning halls, with endless doors. They jerked, right, left, right, right, left, then left again, and suddenly Penelope lost count and studied the big underground lake they had come to full of stalactites and stalagmites for a few seconds before the cart sped forward again, coming to a halt after a few moments, abruptly.

Harry got out, and helped his companion stand as she stumbled from her dizziness.

"Light, please," called Hornpick in a coarse voice, and Harry took the oil lamp from him.

"Key, please." Penelope handed him the necklace. Hornpick unlocked the door, and a lot of green smoke flooded out, but once it had cleared away, Penelope gasped at the amount of coins there were. Gold, silver and bronze ones.

Harry remembered with a smile the first time that he had visited his vault. He had been so surprised at the little fortune left by his parents, and he realized that the girl was feeling the same thing as him.

The green-eyed boy took out a small leather pouch, and started piling in some gold. Penelope helped him, and in a few moments Harry closed it and handed it to her.

"The gold ones are Galleons, the silver are Sickles and the bronze are Knuts. Seventeen sickles to a Galleon, twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. You'll get it eventually," he explained with a grin. "That should be enough for three terms and supplies."

Hornpick closed the vault door behind them, and Penelope looked questioningly at Harry, on whether he needed to go to his vault.

"I already got my money out yesterday," he explained.

And the sped into the maze of underground Gringotts again.


	7. A wand and a friend

**CHAPTER 7: A wand- and a friend**

"Okay, now that we've got your money we'll need robes, wand, then your potions and astronomy supplies… right, let's go to Madam Malkin's first."

Penelope just nodded, only understanding half of what Harry was saying.

Soon enough, they arrived at Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions.

"Hogwarts, dears?" asked a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Just her," replied the green-eyed boy, and after excusing himself from Penelope saying that he needed to go do something, left the shop.

Madam Malkin slipped a long robe over her head and started pinning it to the right length. Penelope was a bit nervous, but stood in silence as the lady did her job.

After paying for her new robes, which were now in a black shopping bag with a silver "MM" printed on the side, the girl left the shop behind and looked around the street for Harry, who suddenly appeared in front of her carrying a grey owl in with dark green eyes in his arms.

"She's for you," he grinned, and Penelope felt all her worries wash away as she stared at the beautiful creature and then abruptly pulled Harry into a tight hug.

"Thanks! I'm going to call her Athena. Her symbol was the owl. You didn't have to, you know."

"I know. It's for the two of your birthdays I've missed," he said, smiling.

After hugging him for the third time, she asked what they should do next.

"I don't know- how about Ollivander's for a wand?" he suggested. Penelope's eyes widened as she nodded vigorously, making her new friend laugh aloud.

* * *

"Ah, we meet again, Mr. Potter. And you- you must be Miss Jones, so like your mother. It seems like yesterday the day she came through that door. Maple and phoenix feather. Twelve inches. Great for Charms, I remember. I am guessing that the wand will be for Miss Jones?"

Penelope nodded. Ollivander was freaking her out with his dreamy wandlore.

"Let's see. Which is your wand arm?" he said, taking a silver tape measure out of his pocket.

"I'm right handed…"

"Hold out your arm. Yes." He measured Penelope in every way possible, and as he did so he explained, "every Ollivander wand has a core of powerful magical substance, Miss Jones. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get good results with another wizard's wand."

Suddenly, the tape measure, which had been measuring the girl on its own, stopped doing so and dropped to the floor.

"All right…" called Mr. Ollivander from the back of the shop, where he had been inspecting some boxes that looked like flat shoeboxes to Penelope. He took them out, put them back in, went to another of his many shelves of wands and looked a bit more. He suddenly appeared behind the counter with a bunch of boxes in his arms.

"Why don't you try _this_ one. Oak and unicorn hair. Eight inches. Small and light. Just sort of wave it."

Penelope took the wand, with a funny expression on her face, as if she would wake up from a dream any minute now, and waved it at Mr. Ollivander, who immediately took it out of her hands.

"No, no... Hmm... Ash and dragon heartstring. Try it." he said, handing it out to the girl.

She took it again, but as soon as she started to wave it around, Mr. Ollivander snactched it out of her hands yet again, with an inquiring expression on his face. Penelope let out a sigh. What was he looking for?

Mr. Ollivander was now in the back of the shop again, when he suddenly stopped, went back a few paces, and took out a small wooden box.

"Can't be… I thought… Well, I suppose we could _try_…" he voiced aloud. He brought the wooden box to the counter again, and gave Penelope yet another wand.

"Try this one," he said, with a curious expression on his face.

Penelope simply took the wand, and was greeted with a sudden feeling of warmth shooting through her body, and as she waved the wand, red and green sparks erupted from the end. Harry smiled, and Mr. Ollivander looked triumphantly at Penelope, and then his face changed to that thoughtful expression of his.

"You must know, Miss Jones, in the process of making wands, I do not use the wood of the same tree twice, and very rarely the core of one same animal. A long time ago," he continued, with both Penelope and Harry equally interested in what he was saying, "when I had gone well with my shop and people were happy with their purchases, I decided to take on an apprentice, who would get the shop once I passed away. Ah yes, my apprentice was aspiring, intelligent and innovative; everything I thought my profession needed. Alas," he continued, with a grave face, "he soon turned to the dark side, and started making wands that were unique, and their features terribly dark. My apprentice made five wands in total. Three when he was in his normal state, and which work perfectly well for the wizards that they picked. And the other two in his not-so-sane period. He went out of all ethics, and used the same tree twice, as well as the same, well animal."

Mr. Ollivander took a pause.

"This particular wand is one of the ones of his darker phase. I thought perhaps it had been destroyed after his death in the First Wizarding War, but I stand corrected. Your wand, Miss Jones, is made of the wood from the bark of a lightning-struck dead tree; and its core holds a thin sheet of basilisk fang."

Penelope didn't know what a basilisk was, but it didn't sound very friendly, and Harry shuddered beside her.

"You may think that it is very peculiar that this wand has chosen you, but I think that, in spite of the evil that its contents hold, it is trying to prove it has a better journey for itself. Perhaps the tree and basilisk, in a desperate cry for justice, have chosen you to clear their name. We can only expect the best from you, Miss Jones."


End file.
